


Battleship

by javajunkie



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/javajunkie/pseuds/javajunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Skye's father kills Coulson the team is reluctant to let her help track down her father. Frustrated, she goes to the one person who can help her avenge his death. SKYEWARD Set mid-season 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick word - I am only halfway through S2 right now. So...some of the stuff in here might not be correct as to how things play out and where characters end up. Just disregard that, yeah? Perfect.

            Skye was sitting on the couch watching Chopped re-runs when it happened. She did the math. The phone call came at 7:35 p.m. May told her that something happened with her father a few hours prior, and that she needed to make sure all the security measures at the cabin were being used. 

            “Don’t let anyone in but me.  I’m leaving for you now,” her SO said in her typical clipped tone, but Skye sensed something else in her voice.  It was a rumbling just below the surface.  A practiced show of control that Skye recognized well.  She’d been playing that game herself ever since San Jose.

            Skye called Coulson after she hung up, hoping that he’d be able to give her more information than the absolute nothing that May had shared with her. His phone went straight to voice mail. Frustrated, Skye had tossed her phone onto the seat cushion next to her and drew her knees up to her chest.

            She had an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach, like when the BUS would dip unexpectedly or she was late for training with May. That split second between now and whatever happens next when an awful, terrible next is just as probable as a good one.

            She had pushed the niggling thoughts to the side and tried to busy herself with whatever she could in her super-spy-cabin. She went through all the drawers, something she somehow hadn’t gotten to before, and went through the strange odds and ends left by the cabin’s last inhabitants.  She’d found an old deck of playing cards. Some spare change.

            Some time later there was a knock on the door, and she moved forward gingerly, remembering May’s warning from before.  She glanced at the security camera footage, and it showed Melinda May standing at the front door, her face grim.

            She knew then what this was all about.  May told her on the phone something happened with her father. And then she travelled all the way to the middle of nowhere to see her.  May didn’t make house calls.  This could only mean one thing.

            She opened the door, and before May could say a word Skye murmured, “He’s dead, isn’t he?”     

            May’s eyes widened slightly.  “What? How did –“

            “I thought I’d feel more at this moment,” Skye said slowly. “But, I don’t. I mean, I’ve been an orphan most of my life.  And it’s not like he was father of the year.  It was almost worse finding out he was my father than not having a father at all. But, still, I thought I’d feel…something.”

            May took a deep breath and said, “Your father is alive, Skye.”

            “What?”

            May took a hold of Skye’s arm and gently pushed her back into the cabin. “Come on, why don’t you sit down.”

            “I don’t need to sit down,” Skye said.  “Wait, if my father’s alive, then what’s going on?  What would make you come all the way out here?”

            “There will be time for all of that,” May said.  “But, right now, you need to sit down.  You need to remain calm.”

            She knew the underlying warning there.  Stay calm so some freaky earthquake doesn’t happen and take the cabin down with both of them in it.

            “Okay,” Skye said, sitting down.  “I’m sitting.  I’m calm. Now tell me what the hell is going on.”

            May paused for a moment, trying to work out a good way to deliver terrible news, and when nothing seemed to fit, she settled with, “Coulson’s dead.”

            Skye laughed.  “No he’s not. Come on.  Tell me what’s really going on.”  When she was met with May’s broken gaze, her stomach did that lurch again, like she felt earlier.  “Coulson can’t be dead.  He – that’s ridiculous.  He’s not dead.” Raising her voice, she repeated, “He’s _not_ dead.”

            The glass of water on the coffee table began to shake, and May came forward, lying her hand on Skye’s shoulder as she said, “You need to stay calm, Skye.”

            “This can’t be happening.  He’s…he already died once.  He’s not supposed to do it again –“

            The glass toppled over.  May’s grip on her shoulder tightened.

            “Skye, calm down.  Get control of yourself. You can do this.”

            Except she couldn’t.  Because Phil Coulson, the man who’d been more of a father to her than her own father ever could be, was dead.  She was holed up in this cabin, playing house, while he was out getting killed.  Maybe she could have helped.  Maybe she could have done _something_. She’d never forgive herself. She’d never forgive him.

            She could hear things falling over in the kitchen, and that lamp that Steve Rodgers may or may not have picked out himself fell to the ground and shattered. May crouched down in front of Skye and took her hands in her own, holding them tightly. 

            “Skye, control your emotions.  You can do this.  You are in control.”

            Somewhere in the back of Skye’s mind, she heard Coulson say, “You can handle this, Skye.  You’re stronger than this.”

            “I’m stronger than this,” Skye murmured.  The cabin stilled.  “I’m stronger than this.”

            “That’s it,” May said calmly.  “Good job, Skye.  Just keep breathing. Keep breathing.”

            “I’m stronger than this,” she repeated, taking a deep breath. “I’m stronger.”

            She could feel the tension leave her body, the earthquake settled for now, and she pulled her hands from May’s.  “I’m okay now.”

            May nodded.  “Good. You’re getting better at controlling it.”

            “I made the entire cabin shake.”

            “Yeah, but you stopped it.  A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have been able to.”

            “How did it happen?”  Skye asked. She knew that details probably wouldn’t help now, but she needed to know. 

            May hesitated for a moment before saying, “He was going to that one bakery in town that he liked.  The one with –“

            “With the good cream puffs,” Skye finished.  “He used to go on and on about that place.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“So, what happened?”

“He was shot on his way out. Three times.  Twice in the chest and once in the head.  He didn’t have a chance.”

Skye swallowed hard. “Do we know who did it?”

“Yes.”

Skye waited for May to elaborate, and when she didn’t she went, “Well, who did it?”

            “Your father.”

            “My-my father? You can’t…that’s…”

            She wanted to say that was ridiculous, but she knew it wasn’t. Her father hated Coulson for many reasons.  He hated him for taking her in.  He hated him for killing Whitehall.  But, secretly, what she really think he hated Coulson for the most was replacing him. Not that he really did any such thing. Cal wasn’t a father to replace. He was a monster. They didn’t even belong in the same sentence, but that wasn’t how he saw it.

            “We’re concerned that he will come for you next,” May said. “That’s why I’m here. It’s time for you to come home.”

            “Aren’t I still a threat?”  Skye pressed. “I almost just brought this cabin down.”

            “You’re one of us and you’re in danger,” May told her firmly. “That’s all that matters right now.”

            “How does he even know I’m here?”

            “We don’t know if he does.  But, it’s a possibility.  We need to take you somewhere where you can be safe.  We think the best place for you is back on the BUS.”

 

* * *

 

 

            The BUS was a somber place with everyone mourning their director’s sudden passing. May stepped up in the interim, and didn’t seem pleased with the new charge of power.  There was a reason she was known as The Calvary. She was good at executing plans, and took no pleasure in making them.  Skye thought they would immediately begin tracking her father’s whereabouts, but was surprised when the team instead continued their focus on Hydra.

            “What about my father?”  she said to May, during a particularly heated exchange.  It had been over a week since she’d left the cabin, and they’d made hardly any progress toward finding her father.  “Why aren’t we doing more to find him?”

            “We are doing as much as we can right now, Skye.”

            “No, we’re not,” Skye snapped.  “I told you to use me.  It’s the quickest way to bring him out.”

            “I will not put you in danger,” May said firmly.  “That’s not what Coulson would have wanted.”

            “Coulson’s not here,” Skye said stubbornly.  “He’s not here, because my whackjob of a father killed him. I’m the reason that happened, May –“

            “Skye that was not your fault.  You can’t blame yourself for this.”

            “I’m at the center of it all and you know it,” Skye threw back. “It starts and ends with me. So use me, dammit. Let me end this.”

            “I will not use you as bait,” May said.  “You don’t know who your father will bring with him this time. You know that he’s amassed more people like him.  If you use yourself to draw him in you may never come back, Skye.  I won’t risk that.”

            “My life is not yours to risk or not risk,” Skye returned heatedly.

            May shook her head and said, “No, it’s not.  But I am the leader of this team, whether you – or I – like it or not. Do not try to contact your father. That is an order.”

            Skye knew when a conversation was over, but it didn’t make her want to back down any less. She went over to the laboratory, where Fitz and Simmons were still working on figuring out what exactly was in her wonky new DNA.  She vented to them as they worked away on her DNA, Simmons chiming in with supportive words. In the end, though, Simmons gently said, “I have to agree with Agent May here, Skye.  Your father is a dangerous man.  Luring him in like that…is that really what Agent Coulson would want for you?”

            It wasn’t, of that much Skye was certain.  But she also knew that he was a man of honor.  He deserved more than being gunned down in front of his favorite bakery. She knew he wouldn’t approve of her going after her father, but in the face of such injustice she didn’t care.

            “I’m going to go back to my room,” Skye said, turning around and walking out of the laboratory.  She was a few paces down the hallway when Fitz joined her.

            “She just worries about you, you know,” he said.  “We all share that problem.  Worrying too much.”

            Skye smiled slightly.  “I’ve noticed that.”

            “She’s right, though.  They all are. Coulson wouldn’t want you to go after your father.  Not alone.”

            Skye shook her head.  “Look, I’m sick of hearing this.  I know. Coulson wouldn’t want this. But it doesn’t make what happened any less terrible.  It doesn’t make it hurt any less.  I have to do something. I can’t just sit here and wait for him to fall into our laps, because that isn’t going to happen. It’s never going to happen, and –“

            “Skye, stop,” Fitz said.  “You didn’t hear what I said.”

            “What?”

            “He wouldn’t want you to go after your father _alone_.”

            “Well, how the hell else am I supposed to do it?  I’m clearly not getting help here.  May ordered me to stand down.”

            Fitz pulled her into an empty corridor and looked around furtively before whispering, “We are not your only option, Skye.”

            “Then who else?”

            Fitz gave her a knowing look and when she caught on to who he was referring she immediately shook her head.

            “No, that’s not happening.  That’s – you can’t be serious.  Fitz, you cannot be serious.”

            “I personally wouldn’t want to spend any amount of time with him, but this is what he’s practically built for, Skye.”

            “I can’t go to Ward.  How do you know he’d even help me?  I shot him.”

            “He survived,” Fitz said off-handedly.  They received a bit of a calling card from him a few weeks back in the form of a brainwashed Bakshi alerting the team to his not-dead status. “If he would help anyone, Skye, it would be you.”

            She knew he was right.  She’d always been Ward’s soft spot.  If anything, he’d be proud of her for shooting him in some weird, evil twisted way. Skye was concerned by the fact that this plan wasn’t sounding completely loony anymore.  In fact, it almost made sense.

            “Do you have a way to reach him?”  Fitz asked, sensing that she was latching onto the plan a bit.

            “Yes,” Skye said.  If she knew Ward, his little gift wouldn’t be without some gain on his part.  “At least I think I do.”

            “So, are you going to do it?”

            Skye exhaled sharply.  “I don’t know yet.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Skye went down to the cell area and walked to where Bakshi was being held. She stood in front of the glass and knocked on it to get his attention.  He played tic tac toe against himself all day, an activity that seemed to keep him occupied.  He rose from his seat and slowly walked toward the glass.

            “You,” he murmured.

            “I need information from you,” Skye said. 

            Bakshi blinked, continuing to stare at her in silence.

            “Grant Ward.  I need to reach him.”

            “I need more paper,” he returned.

            “I’ll get you more paper,” Skye said.  “But first, I need some information on Grant Ward.  How do I contact him?”

            “I need more paper,” he repeated.

            “I told you, I will get you more paper.  But first, Grant Ward –“

            “I need more paper.”

            Skye sighed, shaking her head.  This wasn’t going anywhere.  She thought for certain Ward would have hidden some way to contact him in Bakshi. Some way for her to reach him if by some miracle – or tragedy – she actually wanted to contact him. Ward always was an optimist in that regard.  Concrete in his belief that someday she would see him how he saw himself.  Realize feelings that she’d only been denying through all the missions and games of Battleship.

            Battleship.

            It was ridiculous, and probably wouldn’t work, but it couldn’t hurt to try. Ward was the type to romanticize their time together.  To use it.

            “Do you want to play a game of Battleship?” she asked gingerly.

            Bakshi responded immediately with, “615 – 873 – 2308.”

            She laughed in surprise.  It worked. And it made sense. Ward wouldn’t want all of Shield having access to him.  Only one Shield agent, so of course he’d make the trigger only something that she would know.

            She memorized the number and turned around, heart slamming against her chest when she saw May standing in the doorway.

            “Skye, what are you doing down here?”

            Skye took a moment to steady herself before saying, “I wanted to know if he had anything else on my father.  He worked with him with Whitehall and all.  I thought he might know places my father went.  Places we could start surveiling.”

            “And?”

            “I need more paper,” Bakshi said.

            “That’s about all I got,” Skye said.

            “He’s brainwashed, Skye,” May said.  “You’re not going to get anything useful out of him.  I wish you could.”

            Skye nodded. 

            “We will find your father, Skye,” May said, covering Skye’s shoulder with her hand. “But we need to do it the right way. We can’t be rash.”

            Skye nodded again.  They couldn’t be rash. Like contacting a Hydra agent. She followed May out of the room. Behind them, Bakshi continued to murmur, “I need more paper.  I need more paper.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Skye waited a full day before using the number.  She felt like she was betraying her team.  Ward was the enemy and now they’d be working together. But, she told herself it was for the greater good.  She’d get revenge for Coulson’s death, and then things would go back to normal.  This was only temporary.

            She couldn’t work up the nerve to call him, and instead texted, telling him to meet her at a diner on the outskirts of town.  She made up a story to May about how she was feeling cooped up on the BUS, that she needed to get out.  She promised to stay close, aware that her father could still be looking for her.

            “You should take someone with you,” May said.

            “I’ll go,” Fitz offered.  “We’re almost out of English Breakfast tea, anyway.  Simmons will get cranky if we run out.  We don’t want that.”

            He was talking too much, but May didn’t notice.  She just nodded and told them to be careful.

            “You found him, didn’t you?”  Fitz asked as they left.

            She nodded.

            “So, I’m coming back alone then?”

            “That depends.”

            “On what?” Fitz asked.

            “If he shows.  Or if I don’t chicken out.”

            “He will and you won’t.”

            She knew he was right.  She went with him to the small tea shoppe.  Simmons and Fitz were very particular about the tea they drank, and wouldn’t settle for the blends sold in most conventional retailers.  They’d discovered this small place a few years back, and swore by it ever since.  They left the store with a good month’s supply of tea.  Her meeting place with Ward wasn’t too far away.  Only a five minute or so cab ride.

            “So, this is it,” Fitz said.  “Promise me that you will be careful.”

            “I will.  What are you going to tell May?”

            “That you went off on your own while I was getting tea.”

            “I don’t want her to know that you knew about any of this. It’s all on me, okay?”

            Fitz nodded.  “Okay.”

            “Okay.” She took a deep breath. “It’s time for me to go.”

            She hailed a cab and climbed in.  When she closed the door Fitz grabbed it suddenly and said, “If anything happened, you’d let me know right?  I’m the only one who will know where you are.  So, if anything happens –“

            “I’ll let you know,” she promised.  “But nothing will happen.  I will be fine.”

            Fitz nodded. “Okay.  Good luck, Skye.”

            “Bye Fitz.”

            She closed the door and told the cab driver where she needed to meet Ward. Her stomach coiled tightly with nerves on the drive, the entire way questioning whether or not she was making the right decision.  She almost had the driver turn around several times, but her need for revenge won out each time. Her father was going to pay for what he did, and the surest way to ensure that happened was with Ward’s help.

            The cab came to a stop in front of the diner and she paid the driver before stepping out.  She walked in, looking around before spotting Ward at a table in the back, away from any windows. She walked over and sat opposite him. He looked about the same as the last she saw him, only his hair was a bit shorter.

            “I didn’t know if you were going to actually show,” he commented. “Or you would, but not alone. On that topic, are you alone?”

            “Yes.”

            “Are you sure?” he said.  “Because if you’re not, I’m wearing enough C4 to blow up this entire building. You can never be too careful.”

            “I’m here by myself.”

            “Okay,” he said.  “To what do I owe the pleasure, then?”

            “Coulson is dead,” she said bluntly.  “My father did it.  I need to find him and put a bullet in his head.”

            Ward smiled a bit.  “I’ve never seen this side of you before, Skye.  I like it.”

            “I don’t care if you like it or not,” she said blandly.  “But I need your help.”

            “Isn’t your team going to avenge their leader’s death?”  Ward asked.  “That has Shield written all over it.”

            “The only way we will find him is by using me.  They won’t do that.”

            “And you think I will?” he asked.

            “If you don’t I walk out that door,” Skye said.  “And you’ll never see me again.  So, yeah, I think you will.”

            “Maybe you overestimate your hold on me,” he returned.  “You did shoot me.”

            “You survived,” she said flippantly.  “So, are you going to help me or not?  Fitz is probably on his way back to the BUS now.  They’ll know I’m missing soon.”

            Ward studied her face for a moment and then said, “Under one condition.”

            “Okay, what?”

            Ward leaned forward.  “You pull the trigger.”

            Skye shrugged and said, “That’s fine by me.”

            “Really? I thought you weren’t a killer. That’s what separated us, wasn’t it? I’m a killer.  You’re an upstanding Shield agent..”

            “My father ruined me,” she said fiercely.  “He turned me into a person I don’t even recognize.” She realized then that Ward didn’t even know the half of it.  He didn’t know about San Jose.  About her new abilities. There’d be time enough for that. “Nothing would make me happier than to put a bullet in his head.”

            Ward was quiet for a moment.  She knew what she said set off some sort of curiosity, but he didn’t pursue any answers then.  Instead he flagged a waitress over and said, “Alright then.  Let’s order some pie and talk about how we’re going to catch your father.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned on this story being a slow boil and then this chapter happened. Oops! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Two

           

            Skye and Ward checked into a motel not too far from the diner where they met. Ward paid with cash, as to not leave a trail, and they checked in with the ubiquitous names of John Smith and Mary McMann. The motel was the definition of cheap, complete with dusty curtains and stained bedspreads.  They each purchased separate rooms, after Ward suggested one for simplicity and Skye flat out refused, and Skye appreciated the stillness. She spent so much of her life lately surrounded by people, which she usually enjoyed. She was a people person. But now, with the storm raging inside of her, she liked being alone.  At the BUS it felt like she was constantly being watched.  FitzSimmons constantly watching for spikes in vitals. May and Coulson constantly watching for any shakes or new change that came with her brand spanking new alien form.  In this cheap motel room by herself, no one was watching.  No one was waiting for her to break.

            There was a knock on her door and she stood up from the side of the bed and walked over and opened the door.  Ward stood on the other side, dressed casually in a pair of jeans, grey t-shirt and his brown leather jacket.  She remembered a time when the sight of him sent a slew of emotions through her. First attraction. Then hatred.  Now, she felt nothing.

            “Are you ready for dinner?” he asked.

            “Yeah, that’s fine.  Let me just grab my purse.”

            Ward followed her into the room and said, “If you haven’t dumped your phone yet, now would be the time.”

            Skye looked back at him and drily retorted, “This isn’t my first rodeo. I got rid of it back in the city with Fitz.”

            “Is there anything else they can track you by?”

            Only the destruction I leave in my wake, Skye thought to herself.

            “No,” she said.

            Ward nodded.  “Okay, what are you feeling for dinner?  I saw a Chinese place on the way here.”

            Skye shook her head and said, “Definitely not.  I think anything relating to my background is probably off-limits when we’re trying to kill my father.”

            Ward smirked.  “Fair enough. What about Mexican? We can ask the lady up front if there’s one nearby.”

            “I’m always game for some guacamole,” Skye said, slipping her cross-body bag over her head.  As they walked out she added, “Just so you know, I require my own basket of chips.”

            “Not good at sharing, huh?”

            “Spend as many years as I did in an orphanage and you wouldn’t be either.”

            “I will get you your own basket of chips,” he assured her.

            “I’ll get my own chips, thank you very much,” Skye returned. “Just wanted you to know so you didn’t think you could mooch off of mine.”

            “Aren’t they usually free at Mexican places?  It’s basically the equivalent of a bread basket.”

            Skye shrugged.  “Free or not, I’m getting my own basket.” 

            Ward chuckled, following her out of the room.  “Whatever you want, Skye.”

            It turned out there was a Mexican restaurant within walking distance, and they made their way there, Skye trying to figure out why she felt so comfortable around him.  He was a monster. Her guard should be up, but instead she found herself remarkably unguarded around him.  It felt nice.  She spent so much of her time now trying to keep everything in perfect control. Put on a face to keep others calm. To keep herself calm. But, he didn’t require that. His perceived awfulness almost was a relief. After everything he’d done in the name of Hydra, or Garrett, or whatever it was, nothing she did could ever live up to what he already did.

            They settled into a corner booth, a feigned intimacy allowing them to discuss their murderous plans.  Because that was what it really was at the end of the day.  They were murdering her father.  She didn’t feel anything at that, and wondered what that meant, if anything.

            “So, did you get any good leads?”  Skye asked him.

            They’d agreed earlier at the diner that in order to draw Cal out they needed at least a rough idea of where he was.  The best cat and mouse game didn’t work if the cat was in an entirely different country.  He offered to reach out to some people he knew, and see if anyone had seen the rogue doctor.

            “Not yet,” he said, bringing disappointment to Skye’s face. “It’s only a matter of time, though. Your father isn’t exactly quiet.”

            “Why don’t you call up some of your Hydra people,” Skye said, leaning forward. “He was working with them before. It wouldn’t surprise me if they’re keeping tabs on him.  Evil people do stuff like that.”

            “So does SHIELD,” Ward reminded her.

            “Whatever,” she said dismissively.  “But, you know I’m right.  I bet they know exactly where he is.”

            “They very well could,” Ward said.  “But I don’t have connections at Hydra anymore.”

            Skye rolled her eyes.  “Come on, don’t play coy with me.  You and Garrett practically resurrected the weird octopus from the grave.”

            “Garrett had the connections,” Ward said.  “Not me.”

            “So use those connections,” she returned stubbornly.  “Call them up.  Hail Hydra, or whatever.  And find out where my father is.  You said you’d help me.”

            “I know what I said.  I’m here, aren’t I? But Hydra is not an option. I don’t have connections, and even if I did they wouldn’t want him dead.  Your father has not always seen eye to eye with Hydra, but he’s powerful, and Hydra always likes keeping powerful people in its pocket.  We’re going to have to find another way.”

            “I hate this feeling,” Skye said, picking up a chip and piling it high with guacamole.

            “What feeling?”

            “Depending on other people.  I should have known better than to think this would actually work.”

            “It will work,” he said firmly.  “You just need to be patient.”

            “We’re not going to find him.  He’s pretty much the master of not being found.  And using myself as bait might not even work.  He knows how much Coulson meant to me.  He knows that I wouldn’t just overlook what happened. That I’d want revenge.” She laughed humorlessly and added, “I am his daughter, after all.”

            “You are not your father,” Ward said, with more heat than Skye expected. She looked up at him and he continued. “Our parent’s actions do not dictate who we are.  Only we have that power, do you understand?”

            Skye nodded, but she didn’t believe it.  Her father didn’t just influence her choices, he infected them. Ever since San Jose, she could feel the rage rising inside of her.  She recognized it now in Cal.  What she saw as lunacy was something so much more.  It was destiny, passed down from one generation to the next.  A self-fulfilling prophecy with each punch and each quake. She didn’t want it to be her story, but had no idea how to rewrite what already felt set in her bones.

            “We are going to find your father,” Ward told her.  “And he’ll pay for what he did to Coulson. I promise you. I’ve never lied to you, have I?”

            “No, you haven’t,” she admitted.  “And I’m still trying to figure out why.”

            Ward smiled slightly.  “Maybe by the end of all of this you’ll have an answer.”

            “Maybe.”

 

* * *

 

 

            The Mexican food was average at best, but the cheese and carbs did wonders for Skye’s nerves.  She felt fortified with each bite of taco and rice.  The portions were massive, but both left without any to take back to the motel. They walked back to the motel, neither talking much.  Her mind was still on what he’d said at dinner.  Her thoughts drifted momentarily to when Ward brought her to his father. She remembered what Raina said, about Ward loving her.  She didn’t believe it then, and frankly, she didn’t really believe it now, but what if it wasn’t a lie?  He’d been honest to her about everything else, why not that too?

            She pushed the thought aside, adding it to the litany of problems she’d sort through after her father was taken care of.  The list was getting disturbingly long.  She left Ward at his room and then headed to her own.  The weight of the day began to pull on her, and she didn’t even change out of her clothes before climbing into bed.  She pulled the chain on the lamp and it turned off, the room going dark.  She felt herself drift off when there was a knock on her door.

            Reluctantly, she pulled herself out of bed and padded over to the door. Her SHIELD training kicked in, and she grabbed her gun from the desk and held it flush against her side as she peaked into the small hole on the door.  Her heart slammed against her chest when she saw Phil Coulson standing on the other side of the door.  She fumbled with the locks, her hands shaking as she pulled out the door and said, “How are you here right now?”

            “Well, hello to you too,” he said pleasantly, same goading grin on his face. She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.  He was here. She didn’t know how he could be here with being dead and all, but here he was, sturdy and Coulson-y and _alive_.

            Maybe it had all been some elaborate plan.  She couldn’t think of a single reason why they would fake his death, but she couldn’t think of a better explanation.  She pulled away and murmured, “Please tell me it’s actually you.”

            “Of course it’s me,” he said.

            She reached up suddenly and pulled at his face, trying to find a mask like when Agent 33 moonlighted as May.  After finding nothing but his own face, she pulled her hands back and he chortled a bit.

            “Convinced it’s actually me?”

            Skye nodded.  “Yeah, but…how. You died.”

            “I know,” he answered reasonably.  “The second time?  Not as fun as the first.”

            The joke was in poor form, not to mention incredibly cheesy, but she didn’t care. He was there.  He was alive.  She was so happy she felt like she’d burst.

“What are you doing here? Are you here to take me back to the BUS? Because I’m telling you right now, I’m not going.  My father needs to pay for what he did.”

            “All that hate,” Coulson said slowly.  “You can’t hold on to it, Skye.  It’s not you.”

            “Maybe not before, but it is now.”

            “Skye, you cannot do this.  You…” he trailed off, his hand quickly going to his chest.

            “What is it?”  she asked worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

            He pulled his hand away and it was stained with blood.  His white button-up was torn where a bullet entered. Suddenly, another bullet hole appeared, and blood began to pour from the wound.

            “Coulson!” she yelled hurriedly, pressing her own hands over the wounds as she tried futilely to stop the bleeding.  Her hands became bathed in blood.

            “You did this,” Coulson said, looking up from his now nearly blood-soaked shirt and back at her with wide eyes.  “This is your fault.”

            “What?”         

            “There is blood on your hands, Skye,” Coulson said.  She looked down at her hands, covered in his blood, and pulled away sharply.

            “No, I…I never meant for this to happen.  I never –“

            She stopped suddenly when the last bullet hole appeared on his forehead. Blood trickled down his face and she staggered backwards, her entire body shaking.

            “This is your fault,” Coulson repeated, walking toward her. “All of this.  Tripp.  Me. This is all your fault.”

            She sunk down to the floor, covering her face with her hands. “Stop,” she murmured. “Please stop.  I didn’t…please stop.”

            She squeezed her eyes shut and said it over and over again. Please stop.  Please stop.  Please stop.

            “Skye, wake up!  You need to wake up!”

            Her eyes opened, and somehow she was back in her bed.  Coulson was nowhere to be found, but Ward was above her, hands on her shoulders.  His face looked several steps beyond concerned, and then she heard a loud banging sound as the lamp on her nightstand fell to the ground and shattered.  It was then that she noticed the room was shaking.

            “We have to get out of here,” Ward said hurriedly.  “There must be an earthquake or something.”

            Her entire body shook and she murmured, “No, not again.  I can’t stop it anymore.  I can’t…I’m tired of hurting people!  I don’t want to hurt anymore people!”

            “What are you – Skye, look, we need to get out of here.  This place is about to collapse.”

            He went to pull her from the bed and she grabbed his wrist, digging her nails into his skin.  He swore loudly and she said, “You need to knock me out.”

            “What?   Skye –“

            “I am doing this!” she yelled, eyes wide.  “This is me!  It’s not an earthquake, it’s me.  You need to knock me out. There’s no other way!”

            “What do you mean this is you?”  His eyes widened for a moment and he said, “It happened.  You found the temple.”

            “Ward, please!  I can’t hurt any more people.  I can’t have anymore blood on my hands.”

            Ward sank down to his knees and took her hands in his, holding them tightly. She went to pull away, but he held them tighter.

            “What are you doing?” she said frantically.  “You need to knock me out.  That’s the only way this will stop.”

            “I’m not knocking you out,” he said firmly.  “So, we’re going to have to stop this another way.”

            “There isn’t  any other way,” she told him, beginning to cry.  “I can’t stop it.”

            “Yes, you can,” he said calmly, despite the room shaking around them. “This is a part of you, Skye. You can control it.”

            “I can’t.  I can’t control it.”

            “Look at me,” he said firmly.  When she didn’t he repeated, “Look at me, dammit.  You can do this, Skye.  Just look at me.”

            She forced her gaze to his, her eyes filled so completely with tears that she could barely see him.  She blinked rapidly and they dripped down her cheeks.  He reached up and caught a few with the edge of his thumb.

            “Now, you need to breath,” he said.  “Match mine, okay?  Just follow my breathing.”

            She nodded, matching each inhale and exhale with her own.  It was difficult at first, sobs still catching in her throat, but after a few rounds she was able to match his breathing more easily.

            “That’s it,” he said reassuringly.  “Just keep breathing.”

            “It’s all my fault,” she murmured, the room stilling around them. “All of it.  All I do is hurt the people around me.”

            “Coulson is not your fault,” he told her.  “You can’t control your father’s actions.”

            “He killed him because of me.  Because he couldn’t have me.”

            “It’s still not your fault.”

            “We lost an agent when we went to San Jose,” she said, wiping at her nose. “A good agent, too. He turned to stone and shattered. How fucked up is that?”

            “Pretty fucked up,” Ward agreed reluctantly.  “But also not your fault.  You can’t keep blaming yourself for the bad things that happen around you. Proximity does not equal fault.”

            “I just want to stop hurting people.”

            “So you go off to kill your father?” he asked dubiously.

            “It’s a way to end it,” she said.  “Because he’s in the middle of all of this as much as me.  I can’t help but think…if he’s gone maybe I can go back to normal somehow.  If there even was a normal to begin with.”

            “You can’t go back,” Ward told her, thinking to himself how often he wished that weren’t true. 

            “How often does this happen?” he asked her softly.

            “Whenever I get upset.”

            “What made you upset?”

            “A dream,” she said.  “I dreamt Coulson came here.  He said he died because of me.  That they all did.”

            Ward nodded.  “That would be pretty upsetting.”

            “Yeah. We probably can’t stay here anymore.”

            “Probably not,” he agreed.  “Besides, it’s better we move around.  Are you good with leaving tonight?  We probably should be out of here before people start asking questions.”

            Skye nodded. “Okay.”

            “Good. Get packed, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

            He turned to leave when she called out for him.  He turned back and she asked, “Why is it that you never lied to me? You lied to everyone else, but not me. Why?”

            He paused for a moment and then said, “I think you already know the answer.”

            She felt a chill go through her and murmured, “I’ll be ready to go in five.”

            He nodded.  “Alright. I’ll meet you here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you would like to see more!


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